The Price of Defiance
by A Evans
Summary: An in depth look at what could of happened during the intermission of the musical. First fic please r and r.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The clearing was surrounded by woods, the leafy overhang of branches would work for me, and a square space in the center was free of debris. Excellent

Landing with a humph that would have made Glinda blanch, but wasn't loud enough to alert anyone to my presence (not that I expected pursuit); I hit the ground hard enough to ensure a pleasant jarring of my ankles. Well, it couldn't all be easy. But was traveling by broom really the best idea, tonight not withstanding of course? Snap out of it Elphaba, I told myself. Transport is the least of your problems.

I dropped my broom carelessly to one side, taking greater care with my bag, which contained nothing but the Grimmerie and my returning train ticket. I wasn't sure whether it was out of reverence or fear, but Oz only knew how fragile the book was.

Wringing my hands to rid them of the stiffness, I went over the day's events. In a nutshell: the Wizard, Morrible, the Grimmerie, Chistery's transformation, heart wrenching realization mixed with cutting betrayal, my decision, Glinda's refusal, and my ride over the rooftops of the Emerald City. None of it would have happened if he'd really been wonderful. How hollow the title sounded now, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. The man I'd longed to stand beside for years, trained with Madame Morrible so I could be worthy of his notice. Morrible. If anyone deserved the title Wicked Witch it was that two-faced snake. Her words on the day she had discovered my talent rang in my ears, as if it were only yesterday.

"What? Never apologize for talent! Talent is a gift! And that is my talent, encouraging talent. Have you ever considered a career in sorcery?"

The eagerness in the old woman's eyes. The gloriously unexpected solution she provided me; an escape from my otherwise tawdry existence. A smile of grim satisfaction stole across my face. The extent of my powers had come as a surprise to us both, but that was only part of it. She hadn't bargained on my fury at being made a pawn that could someday rise to queen of the chessboard. Providing, of course, that I was too star struck to retain my independent thought. Glinda would have fit into her plan quite nicely, except that she couldn't read the Grimmerie and according to Morrible had no talent.

No, that lovely burden fell to me. The reason those poor Monkeys were mutilated and unable to speak was because of me. Glinda would have said I wasn't as responsible as Morrible had proclaimed, but my ignorance of an affect made me no less guilty. Maybe I could help them after things died down a bit. There were bound to be records of where they were sent... But it would have to wait. Going to the Emerald Palace or even Shiz for that matter, was unthinkable.

No one would harm Glinda or Nessa... Nessa! I'd promised Father I'd look after her, it was the only reason I'd been sent to Shiz! I had always looked after my sister! She expected it of me. _**I**_ expected it of me! And she was so upset when I'd last seen her! But no... no... heart rate return to normal. She would be fine. Madame Morrible, or one of the classmates that had taken to coddling her, or even Boq would see to it.

Boq and I hadn't been close, so no worries there. Glinda had made her choice. Unbidden, partly unwanted, my thoughts turned to Fiyero. The flowers he'd given me wouldn't last much longer after the buffeting they'd received. I kicked my broom and watched it glumly as it rolled from view. They weren't _**those**_ kind of flowers! I chided. Fiyero loved Glinda; it was as simple as that. Besides, I'd botched any chance of a love life several hours ago.

Enough brooding. The path I'd set my sights on wasn't going to be easy, but nothing in my life had ever been. And the people I cared about would be safer without me. Now exactly where in Oz was I going to go after tonight? If the inhabitants of the Emerald City were calling me Wicked when I'd left, the news would undoubtedly circulate. But I could worry about that later. Exhaustion settled over me like a second cape as the final dregs of triumphant euphoria fizzled away. Spreading my cape on the ground I retrieved my broom, took off my hat, unbraided my hair and managed to crawl under the makeshift cover before sleep claimed me.

{{{{{

The bluebird alighted on a rooftop, eyes darting hither and thither. Admittedly its gaze wasn't so much darting as drifting idly from one form to another. But that was to be expected. Being conspicuous--especially here--could be dangerous, and tracking a train on little sleep couldn't be called simple. After seeing neither of its quarry for some minutes the bluebird stretched its wings, intending to have a long chat with the mice on its return, but paused with one wing unfurled.

Three humans approached from the direction of the train station, a prominent head of blond curls at its center. The one in the lead was an old woman, looking harried and stern; the other, a boy, of age with the golden-haired peer. And not a soul in emerald green livery. Settling down to roost, the bluebird released a breath it hadn't known it held. This venture might be worth it after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Every now and then Glinda tossed her hair impatiently. Boredom hardly suited her bubbly personality, and since her dorm held little in the way of entertainment, here she was, hoping someone would come out of the lecture building and free her from the drudgery that was waiting. She had been excused from Madame Morrible's emergency announcement, alerting the university to the first real enemy of Oz.

The Wizard and Madame Morrible had discussed what "spin" they would put on the events once the guards had escorted Glinda down from the attic. Elphaba Thropp was henceforthward to be known as "The Wicked Witch of the West." She was responsible for the mutilation of the Wizard's monkey servants by an evil sorcery she seemed to possess (the Grimmerie would be left out after some deliberation) and she, Glinda Upland, who had simply hoped for her best friend to be happy, would be the heroine of the piece.

Glinda hadn't agreed to that part exactly, but held her tongue, and took only a few tick tocks to justify the action. She had to turn down Elphie's offer to go with her; she had no other choice! Going against the Wizard was... was... Anyway he'd been pleased. Thanked her for doing her best to reason with the Witch. She would even be given the position Elphaba would have received after graduation.

What would that be like, Glinda wondered gaze shifting from the lecture hall to the sunny sky. She supposed it would be like Shiz, but somehow different. Grander, more fantastical, and with the Wizard to guide her... Yes, the one who has no power? an Elphie-tinged voice quipped in her head. Glinda shrugged. What did that matter? Celebrated heads of state weren't loved for their knowledge. And what was his Ozness if not that?

The uncharacteristic lonely induced pout on Glinda's face vanished at the sound of approaching footsteps. A dazzling smile curved her lips upon immediate recognition.

"Fiyero! Fiyero, dearest," she called, voice faltering as he strode off in the direction of his private suite. The sharp ripping sensation she had experienced not to long ago tore at her chest. What in Oz was going on? Fiyero had been happy to see her when she'd arrived last night, had asked after Elphaba, and then had been oddly quiet on their way back up to the school. Glinda couldn't have told him anything while Madame Morrible was there obviously, but did that have to make him moodified with her? Even if he continued thinking, didn't they still deserve each other? She loved him and was going to marry him. They were meant to be together. And if their relationship wasn't meant to be she... No, there was no if. She would just make them meant to be, that was all.

***

Fiyero was staring fixedly out the window when Glinda arrived in the open doorway, drawn up to her full four feet eleven inches in readiness for this confrontation.

"Fiyero!" she said sharply by way of greeting as she flounced to his side. And then, as she caught sight of his expression, "what's wrong dearest?" The frustration that tautened the usually relaxed lines of his face, the intensity coiled in his eyes, stole the hurt and rage from her as quickly as it had come. Perhaps she just wasn't the confrontational type.

"What happened to Elphaba?"

Glinda faltered, taken a back by the abruptness of the question.

"Oh um... that's what Madame Morrible..."

"Morrible's just reporting whatever was decided in the propaganda meeting. Something about Elphaba being a... but it doesn't make any sense... Anyone who bothered to learn one thing about her would know she could never harm Animals! Glinda," he sighed, crossing the room to close the door before facing her. "Please, tell me what happened? I understand why you couldn't before but... I need to know." She had to tell someone, and in all honesty, who better then Fiyero?

"Everything started out fine, the Emerald City is so Ozmopolitan!" Glinda began hesitantly. During the telling of her story, she had gone to sit on the end of Fiyero's bed, the uncertain look finally replaced by the same awed gaze she had worn in reality. Fiyero's eyes were wide when she'd finished. "It's so surreal... to think she's gone..."

"She made her choice. We're just going to have to manage without her."

"You make it sound so easy," Fiyero snapped.

"It's not that. We just have to rise above it."

"Everyone can't think she's a witch," Fiyero murmured, lost in his own thoughts. "If enough people are convinced, she can at least have some support. Someone to help her fight the Wizard:"

"What?! Fiyero, no! You mustn't tell anyone, they'll think you're showing disrespectation against his Wizardship! I can't lose you too!" Glinda and Fiyero's eyes met. Whatever it was that passed between them, Glinda had the feeling she had gotten through to him. It wasn't the same look they had shared before whatever had come between them, but it quelled the panic that had fluttered in her chest. "We'd better get to class," Fiyero said in to the silence, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. "Everyone's bound to be wondering after you."

He was correct. The not-so-distant chatter of students filled the air as they emerged. "Fiyero," she spoke quietly as Shen Shen and Pfanee untangled themselves from the crowd and made a beeline straight for the couple. "It'll be all right. I'll explain everything once I'm Glinda the Good."

Note: No, I'm not trying to make Glinda the Ozian version of the mean cheerleader in a teen novel, but I am making a point. Lots of people write Glinda as being miserable and guilt-ridden after Elphaba leaves. I think this is overly mature for her personality, because Glinda doesn't reveal these aspects until later. If she could register these emotions as a college student, the bridge in Thank Goodness would be considerably shorter. While she isn't heartless by any means, she's ambitious, and we saw how far that got her!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The musical Wicked is the property of Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holdzman.

A/N: If anyone has been waiting for an update, I am INCREDIBLY sorry it took me so long! On the plus side, you get more then one chapter, since it seemed only fair!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed (and corrected height discrepancies), now it is my great pleasure to present chapter three!

Chapter 3

Looking back, it's remarkable I can remember anything from the blur of light and color after that night in the clearing. For however long a period, my life was rather nomadic; days were devoted to movement, nights, exhausted slumber. I practiced flying whenever I could, usually in the privacy of a makeshift camp, and gradually my landings became as effortless as my takeoffs. Meals consisted of whatever I could take from surrounding bushes or trees, (with their permission of course) and more likely than not it was my desire for something besides fruit that prompted my foray into a nearby village. Hiding my broom in the small scrub near the riverbank that flowed alongside the path, I succumbed to my growling stomach.

I ignored the stares as I entered a café and plopped into the chair at a corner table, not bothering to look around but knowing there would be at least three people tracking my every move from the corner of their eye. It was how it always had been. I ate, parted with the last of my coin that probably didn't cover the food (though no one seemed to mind), and slipped out. The money had been discovered when a particularly broad branch had knocked my bag to the ground during a practice flight; purposefully left to buy Nessa a jeweled necklace Glinda had cooed over on our wanderings. I dug my nails into my palms. Physical pain was preferable to what images of those two usually caused me.

I blinked furiously, then repeated the motion as an odd mass hurtled towards me. Leaping aside, my confusion doubled as... it? halted abruptly just shy of the spot where I'd been standing. "Come quietly and we'll ask his Ozness's guards to treat you with care," said a man's heavily accented voice. It took me a moment to realize he meant me. Tugging at my hat to shade my eyes from the bright afternoon sun, I could see the shapeless mass was made of probably half the occupants of the riverside town. Whatever was going to happen between us would commiserate in the center of this forest community's square, complete with audience. The café diners were huddled in a tight knot just outside the eatery; husbands in front of wives, mothers in front of their children, arms outstretched in a protective tableau. All was deafly quiet. "What have I done to warrant you alerting the Wizard?" I asked the group at large, failing to locate the speaker. "Don't try to act innocent! There have been notices posted from the Emerald City to Winkie country about what you've done, and we're going to be the ones that turn you in, Witch!" "And I suppose you expect you're going to be rewarded for it?" I bit off. "The only thing handing me over to the guards is going to do, is let the Wizard turn Oz into a-a wasteland! A world where Animals are kept in cages," I gritted my teeth, "Where defenseless citizens-defenseless because their status in Oz has never been given the respect and appreciation it ultimately deserves-are turned into enemies! And-and spies are made out of monkeys who-"

"Lies! She lies!" someone bellowed. I whirled as an airborne rock the size of a small boulder caught my eye. Adrenaline mixed with anger coursed through me. So much for an attempt to reason with them, to try to have someone, anyone, understand the truth about the Wizard. The air was filled with flying missiles: rocks, sticks, even something that looked suspiciously like a tankard. While fleeing, the overwhelming urge to laugh rose inside me; my encounters with the bolder set of Munchkin children had ended this way when no adults were around. And the odd mix of astonishment, determination, and fear in their eyes was equal to the expressions of my ex-peers at Shiz. It was the fury brought on by mob mentality that had me on unfamiliar ground.

Our merry chase ended at the path leading to my broom. I skidded to a stop at the dead end in the form of a large tawny-colored cat. It lay across the foot worn track as if warming itself in the sun. Rising ever so gracefully, it fixed a pair of hunter's eyes on my pursuers. "I've never been interested in why my ancestors took to violence against humans. But now... I believe it might be intriguing to hunt presumably more intelligent prey." She, for it was undoubtedly female, licked her lips briefly (flashing a sliver of teeth), then continued, "Go before I actually have to become uncivilized, won't you?" Faced with the prospect of unleashing an apex predator, they did as they were told, flinging their makeshift weapons to the ground and scattering to the winds. "Miss Elphaba," said the tigress almost reverently, "Are you hurt?" From prowling huntress to concerned adult in the blink of an eye. I should've just settled for the berries. "I'm fine. Uh, thanks for your help." Edging around her, I headed for my broom, looking over my shoulder to find she had followed me. "You'll need to lie low for a while until this blows over," she said casually. "I have a place where you can stay, away from the elements I might add." That last was tempting. In silent acquiescence, I followed my rescuers winding trail.

Afternoon had faded to near nightfall when we arrived at the opening of a cave. My feet ached and I couldn't help noticing my broom was somewhat worse for wear, after having used it as support to clamber over tree roots. "Before we head in-" I never learned what she was going to say. At that moment a sky bird swooped down to hover in front of us. "Everyone's been absolutely frantic, Leona," it half-scolded. "And you brought-"" the bird--a robin?--darted upward as if he could get a better look at me from that vantage point. "Yes, I found her," Leona stated calmly. "But tell the others not to come until tomorrow. I know they're excited, but Miss Elphaba's had to cope with idiocy today." The Bird took to the skies after a quick bob of the head. Viewing this exchange as commonplace, Leona padded into the cave with me on her... forepaws.

The room was lit by a small fire in a shallow pit, where Leona stood a safe distance away building up the flames. It contained a table and chairs, one wall partially hidden by a weirdly marked map of Oz, and an alcove with the most inviting-looking bed I had yet to set eyes on. "Who are you?" I asked, intending to say something different when I opened my mouth. Her whiskers twitched forward in a cat smile. "Madame Leona, former private teacher for a Quadling family, and professor at Shiz University." I blinked in surprise. "The former was my most recent profession before the Wizard's guards carried out their orders, and I had a disagreement with the charming headmistress that prompted me to find other work."

"And these animals that are excited to see me are apart of-" "A rebel Animal Rights group. We consist of fifteen in all, not counting our informants, and we owe you a great deal. The Mice in the Wizard's palace have been gathering information on you since Morrible wrote to him," she continued, guessing my train of thought. "Here will be your residents for now, though I'm sure no one would mind you staying at camp if you chose." "Why?" "Because you're different, and if the Wizard was interested in you it meant you were either going to be a hindrance or a help. We were worried when reports of your progress kept coming in, and then you turn out to be the only human who cares whether animals continue to speak. The first show of gratitude comes in an actual bed." I felt the blood rush to my face, glad for the shadows - I do not blush prettily. Leona must have noticed something however; because she made an odd growling noise that I could only imagine was her form of laughter. "Get some sleep, kitten. Your questions can wait until morning." I considered doing the opposite, glanced over at the bed, and let weariness win - for now.

Life in the animal camp was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was somewhat a cross between combat training for those who were able, and a school for the younger ones not officially part of the rebellion. From introduction on, I appeared to have the privilege of participating in both. At first the only thing I gained from combat was excellent dodging skills, as well as an impressive collection of bruises when I wasn't quick enough. In time I learned aerial tactics from the sky birds, along with useful tips on using the sun and clouds as camouflage. The school taught merely the basics, but was comforting in its familiarity; though with Madame Leona's teaching style so reminiscent of Doctor Dillamond's, I spent more time engrossed in the Grimmerie. While I wasn't any closer to figuring out why I could read the fluid script, I mastered some spells with less upsetting effects than the first: multiplying my clothes so that I only had to rely on the animals for meals (which couldn't be conjured), creating a hovering orb of light, and materializing in a cloud of smoke. Well, that last wasn't completely perfect; the spell only worked for short distances, and I didn't think you were supposed to waste clock ticks coughing.

Our simplistic routine was shattered by the arrival of a blue bird midway through the cleaning up of breakfast. It fluttered nun to gracefully to the ground, exhausted, and gasped, "The monkeys... have been sent on their first... assignment to report subversive animal activity."

"What-"

"Where are they headed?"

"Can't they pretend to misinterpret the instructions?!" "Not when Morrible's around," answered the blue bird. "She was called away from Shiz not to long ago. Whatever she did to those monkeys the mice won't breathe a word about it, and you all know how talkative they are!" Nods and murmurs of agreement.

"Since when is the Press Secretary allowed to do more than lie?" I asked, anger layering my voice with iron. "Since our wonderful Wizard gave her more authority." "So where did she send them?" asked an antelope, pawing the ground in his anxiety. "They should be here at the end of the week. We're the only reason for them to mobilize."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The silence that followed was instantaneous, reminding me of the quiet proceeding Doctor Dillamond's arrest with the intensity of a slap.

"Well?" I questioned sharply, "Does anyone have any ideas as to where we should go? Or would you prefer we stand here gaping till the cages arrive." I shifted uncomfortably as my words were met with incredulity. It was the mingled respect and adoration in those looks I doubted I would ever get used to, but then again, animals weren't as judgmental as humans. I'd known that before, but the fact that here, my world of black and white was abandoned for nonchalant acceptance would take time to comprehend. Seeing I still had the floor, I continued, "Those of you with wings don't have anything to worry about. Leave as quickly as you can. Stay together, and find some place safe. The same goes for tree-dwellers. As for the rest of us, we can," I faltered. We can wait here like sitting ducks to be delivered to the horrendible old hag; the monkeys had a good reason not to listen to pleas with me among the group.

Everyone was staring, waiting. Sweet Oz, would I Ever learn to keep my mouth shut?

"Your book, Miss Elphaba!" cried Aurelia, a young fox cub whose reputation as the most inquisitive of the schools' students wasn't to far away from the cunning she would possess as an adult. "A spell from your book can help us!" It better be able to, seeing as everyone was taken with the idea. "I'm sure I can find something," I said, sounding far more confident than I felt.

"Well said Miss Elphaba," Madame Leona remarked, showing me just how unnerved she was by the situation. She usually called me kitten, and I was surprised to find I missed the epithet. Pitching her voice to the crowd she asked, "Now can you all live with that?" From the matter-of-factness of her tone, accompanied by a curling of her lip that showed an impressive array of bared teeth, it struck us all just how commanding a teacher she must have been -- and how it would feel to have teeth meeting your throat. No one dared move against her. The blue bird's weariness was seen to at last, and slowly the tasks of daily life took on greater importance.

I hung suspended in midair as a flock of crows (ordinary ones) surrounded me, cawing raucously at my broaching the invisible perimeter of their nests. They let me be soon enough, and I dove toward the ground, avoiding further danger. Floating a while on a warm breeze, I pondered why it was that in storybooks, witches viewed flying as nothing except a way to move from place to place. The splendor of being so close to a sunrise or sunset, the lingering scent of wind and growing things that clung to you afterwards, the boundless freedom that stretched before you the moment you left the ground, was never even touched upon. So much for staying mad, I thought wryly, landing neatly under a forest oak, my back against the trunk. After spending days hold up in the cave where I'd slept that one night, I had looked up from the Grimmerie to find an ambush lying in wait. I was unceremoniously bundled outside, given my broom and demanded to do something non constructive. Protests overrode and ignored, there was no choice but to resignedly take to the sky. In all honesty, extra study probably wouldn't have done any good. Sorcery was mysterious, mainly because there wasn't a spell for everything; a fair few were completely useless unless the right circumstance cropped up. A levitation spell was out of the question, especially since it was part of this mess. The only thing that seemed remotely helpful was a vision or an illusion, and the cost was to great to risk Madame Morrible detecting the latter. And the former had to be real. Magic truly was a demanderating mistress.

Fingering the small object in my skirt pocket, I was reminded of an old Ozian legend I'd found in a book in Father's library. It had been Mother's, bought at an auction for its beautiful illustrations, the title one of the heroine enfolded by greenery. He'd forbidden me from touching the valuable tome until Nessa, only four years old at the time, had wanted me to read it to her. According to the legend, the great Time Dragon clock could be used as a portal to another world, if a person's need was great. I could see the clock in my mind's eye, a grand imposing innovation, able to pull from the observer the oddest mix of emotions. Yes, it was in a public setting, but the blue bird was insistent that the hunt for me and the plan to capture the animals were not one in the same. Morrible wouldn't see it coming, and in any case would be in no position to stop it at Shiz or the palace - the monkeys clear across Oz.

Rising, I snatched up my broom and leapt into the air. Though my brain was screaming at me that I was putting the livelihood of individuals in the flimsy grasp of a bedtime story, I was certain the Time Dragon would be of use, in the same way I was about my prophecy. As for how to get everyone there, I mused, gliding through the star-strewn night, I had been intrigued when Morrible had mentioned her specialty. Now was as good a time as any to see if I had a knack for weather.


	5. Chapter 5

A/n: Thanks to greengirl16, conception creation, and Ariel for reviewing!

Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked

Chapter Five

-- solely come for its colorful, alluring scenery. The main exports of Munchkinland are corn and milk flowers. These two particular guilds are responsible for ensuring the care of the landscape, and have thus far been successful to the point where visitors solely come for its colorful--

Nessa allowed the book to slide off the table, landing on the floor spine up. Immediately she remembered an old saying that that was the position which broke a book's neck. She glanced around, realizing that there weren't any librarians or students near enough to assist her; at least not without shouting and making a spectacle of herself. Going to the library shouldn't be problematic, she thought irritably. And ordinarily it wouldn't have been, but Boq had an early exam, and Nessa hadn't wanted his priorities divided between his studies and her. Things had been going well between them, with Boq coming to find her sometime after their... spat, and apologizing. Ever since that day he had been as sweet and attentive as he had on their first date, aside from the awkwardness they both had experienced. Still, when she was alone in her private compartment, Nessa couldn't help dwelling on his words that day. "I can't do this anymore!" he had cried, gaze flicking between her and Glinda. Why was being with her "doing" anything when Nessa adored his company? No matter how often she pondered the question, the same answer always returned to send heart breaking images roiling through her mind. Now even a book of her homeland was mocking the glaring fault in an otherwise perfect relationship.

Wheeling her chair as close as she could without damaging a cover in an attempt to act like she was handling this on her own, Nessa felt a sigh (conveying more sadness then it should have) slip from her. The sheer room of leather-bound volumes also housed bittersweet memories. Before Boq, before so many life changing events, she had often agreed to come here with-

"Need a hand?" asked a voice from behind her. Nessa stared in surprise, then nodded as Fiyero came into view.

"A History of Munchkinland: Chronicling rulers, environmental changes and other pivotal events," he read off the back cover. "You're interested in this," he remarked dryly.

"Of course. As future governor of Munchkinland, I have to be well informed."

"In one sitting?" he asked, glancing at the last page before handing her the text with that small half smile that made Glinda the envy of so many girls.

"Thank you," said Nessa, then began before she could consider the rudeness of the question, "What are you doing here? Not that you shouldn't be in the library, except you usually aren't, and your devotees must think-" "After you've been kicked out of nearly every school in Oz, settling down starts to look' more enjoyable." "You must care about Glinda very much." Nessa felt an indefinable fluttering in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't jealousy (not even Fiyero Tiggular could compare to Boq), but the dread that comes with realizing someone you love has lost something they love. But that was preposterous, everyone Nessa cared about was perfectly happy. "Taking Elphaba's position can't be easy to cope with," Fiyero continued. Nessa blinked. Ever since Morrible's announcement, her sister had been referred to as the Wicked Witch. Not even Glinda used her name. "My sister was never going to be the governor," she answered coolly. Now it was Fiyero's turn to look nonplused. "That sounds a little underhanded; cheating a first-born of their right."

"My father wasn't underhanded," she whispered fiercely. "The Munchkins would never care for his other daughter taking power."

"You actually believe all those things everyone's saying about her?" Fiyero asked incredulously. Nessa laughed dryly. "Oh please, I know Elphaba better then anyone. She's out there helping animals, not harming them. If only she didn't have to drag her family's name through the mud to do it."

"You seem to be recovering well enough," Fiyero muttered, looking pointedly at the book.

"That's not the point!" Nessa exclaimed. She couldn't explain what she was feeling--or more precisely, what she wasn't feeling. All her emotions-mortification and anger and longing and others she couldn't even name--seemed to have congealed inside her, a huge mass, a shapeless dark lump at the pit of her stomach. "Do you honestly expect my father to welcome her back with open arms after what she did to us?" Nessa spat. Extreme Oz, what was she doing? This was Glinda's boyfriend she was talking to! Had some of Elphaba's talkativeness rubbed off on her?

"She didn't do anything to you. Nothing at Shiz or in Munchkinland has changed because of what happened. Nessa-" her name sounded awkward to them both--"Glinda's noticed you've been distant lately. She said she'd talk to you about it, but if you don't want to tell her because of her...association-"

"She should've taken me with her!" Nessa cried. "She could have done something, used her powers so I could... so I wouldn't be... If she really cared about me she would never have left, she would have realized I depended on her and--what?"

Fiyero couldn't believe one person could be so self-absorbed, though he'd been that way (or had pretended to be) not to long ago. At least Glinda had an excuse, what with Madame Morrible's classes becoming more difficult, or simply no time to worry with her popularity. Nessarose on the other hand. There were few similarities between the Thropp sisters, though the younger wore the same defiant, impassioned expression that the elder had mastered. "Nothing, it's just... one of the things my family believes is that a good ruler should care about their citizens. You're going to be a memorable governor. Excuse me, Miss Nessarose, for taking so much of your time."

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"Aurelia!" I cried, tried beyond my sense of dignity as a bushy tail flickered in and out of existence. Curse the little minx, everyone was waiting for her! She'd been moodified all week, but whenever I brought it up with her professors I received a generic response or a knowing look. Aurelia was little help, giving me an injured look before muttering an apology and dashing off. "Give that back!" I shrieked, my mouth going dry as my little, green bottle slipped from the fox's grasp. I lunged for the keepsake, Aurelia backing away cow-tailed as my fingers closed around it, though I was the one panting from our game of chase-me-find-me. I clutched the bottle in one hand, a stitch in my chest with the other, remembering my impulsive decision to pack it for good luck. Maybe it was a sign that it hadn't broken after suffering the treatment of an incensed child. "I'm sorry Miss Elphaba. Is it important, were you using it for a spell?" "Yes and no. It was my mother's. She died when I was young, and before you ask she was a perfectly normal color. Now why have you taken to petty theft?" "I-I want you to come with us! You have to stay behind to cast the spell, so I thought if you noticed something of yours was missing, you'd catch up with us soon." I chuckled in spite of myself. It was sweet; rash and desperate, but sweet. There is no such thing as a good goodbye; it is a poorly named ritual. Another thing no one ever mentioned was that it didn't get easier, as I had been learning the past few days. The birds had gone two nights ago, and now this.

"Aurelia, there are animals that aren't going to continue speaking out, cubs without someone like Madame Leona to teach them. If they're caged young enough they'll never learn to speak, and no one's going to risk standing up to the Wizard to fight for them. I have to try... but I'll miss you." I carried her the way we had come, protesting that I couldn't match her pace unless I had my broom. As we neared the others, Aurelia asked, "Would your mother have liked us?" I considered the question, then replied softly, "I think so." From what I could remember of her anyway. One of the older family servants often said (prior to being dismissed) that if Nessa had inherited Melena Thropp's beauty, I'd gotten her kind heart; but would she have approved of my ruining my chances with the Wizard? I'd never know, I reflected sadly as Aurelia wriggled free of my grip, and I was forced to relive the ritual over and over. As everyone gathered to form a circle, Madame Leona handed me a smaller version of the map I had seen when we'd met. I nodded in understanding, either way I'd need it.

Opening the Grimmerie to the correct page, I told myself for the thousandth time that things would work out right. In the remaining days it would take the flying monkeys to get here everyone would be long gone. They could scour the area with a fine toothed comb for all the good it would do. What I had planned was simple in theory; create a force of nature to literally carry them (the animals) to the destination of my choosing. In execution, I had to rely on the elements at hand, since I wasn't practiced enough in this branch to do something as complex as making the sun come out on a cloudy day. The slight breeze that tugged at my tight-braided hair would help form what I wanted. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I began to chant the words to create a cyclone. My voice rose as the wind began to moan in the distance, and I snatched up the book as a funnel of air took shape in the sky. Struggling toward the shelter of the cave while trying to avoid the bowing greenery, my spark of pride was snuffed out by a clap of nearby thunder. Was it to much to ask for one, just one, bit of good to come from these powers! Yes, if the cries of fear and gushing of water reaching my ears were anything to go by. I whirled, determined to save as many as possible from my chaos. I staggered and stumbled nearer the eye of the hurricane, barely noticing as I was pelted with debris, my skirt and cape becoming a living tent once more. A stinging pain blossomed on the back of my head, the ground yawed back and forth, and there were voices calling my name. My arms flailed for balance, and as I toppled consciousness fled.


	6. Chapter 6

A/n: Here is the latest chapter. Something doesn't sit right with me though, so let me know if I'm just being overly critical. Thanks to , greengirl16, Fabela (your review made my day!) and James Birdsong, its nice to know this story has garnaerd some following!

Disclaimer: Wicked: The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz, is the property of Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman.

Chapter Six

It was quiet wherever I was. Unlike the camp which was bustling with activity-unlike any part of my life really, since I had orders to fulfill or classes to attend, every leisurely moment planned. But where was this unscheduled solitude. Slowly I checked to see if my arms and legs were working, then opened my eyes, slitting them as rays of afternoon sun overwhelmed me. I was in the heart of a grove, surrounded by trees that had to be closely related to the quoxwood variety. Inspecting myself I saw someone had torn away strips of my clothes to make bandages for the cuts on my arms. Widening my eyes, I caught sight of a pile of fruit just out of my reach and, wanting to do something to alert whoever had brought me here that I was awake, sat up... and hissed as a searing pain threatened to cleave my skull in two. The blame rested on a bump the size of a walnut, and I slumped back to the ground cursing myself for that spell. Animals could very well be dead on account of my pride. As if on queue a lithe figure detached itself from one of the trees, landing beside me with a whoosh of air and crouching till we were on eye level. It was a winged monkey, not Chistery, but one in the cage I'd bewitched. It (I doubted I'd ever know the sex) reached out to me, grabbing my wrists and gently pulling my hands away from where they gingerly prodded my bruise, and making fussing sounds while undoing the bandages.

"Will I live?" I asked dryly, thinking none of this was necessary as a twig was plucked from my hair. The monkey nodded, flitting over to a small cook fire, and returning with a cup. Holding it out to me it mined drinking. Obeying, I sputtered as the brew--some sort of tea--set my teeth on edge. "No, I'm all right!" I assured the monkey as it cried in alarm, darting frantic looks between me and the sky as if torn. "It's just a little strong. How long have I been asleep?" I ask, willing to do just about anything to make that look go away. The monkey held up a few fingers, waving them about. I guessed that to mean a few hours or minutes. "Uh not that I don't appreciate "everything you've done, but there are some animals I need to find. During the hurricane did you see-" The words died as a rush of wings filled the air, the cloudless sky raining the rest of my powers victims.

Chistery half leaped half flew to where I stood, propped up against a tree by my strict healer the moment I stood. The rest of them spread out, some standing hovering or perching or low branches, tense and alert. Every pair of eyes were locked on mine, and for the first time in my life I felt uneasy. Why hadn't I woken up dangling above Oz bound for the Emerald City? Assured that I wasn't going to fall without her hand on my shoulder (I was fairly certain the first flying monkey was a her now that I saw them altogether) my guard backed away to be replacing by three other monkeys. They held out my bag, broom and undamaged Grimmerie respectively. "Why are you doing this?" I demanded. Chistery glanced at the others, opened and closed his mouth without a sound, then pointed to first his wings then me and the Grimmerie. His eyes said that he and the rest understood rubbing them of their speech had never been my intention. I wanted to kick myself as I accepted my belongings; being loathed for my ability had become a fixture in my life. Being loathed for Being had been a fixture in my life. So what did my judging Chistery and his fellows say about me? Morrible and the Wizard were the only ones to have felt otherwise, and their overall opinions were lower then dirt beneath my feet now. My thoughts must have shown on my face, because Chistery made a sudden move as if to touch my shoulder, then thought better of it. To cover the moment I asked, "Do you know if any of the animals I was trying to help are still here." Sorrowful eyes and shaking heads all around. "You're sure?" I asked in a small voice. This time Chistery did pat my shoulder, while the monkey who had held my bag took Madame Leona's map from behind it's back. I now knew the different colored markings were there to show what places in Oz suffered from the Wizard's treatment of animals. The Emerald City had never been marked. By some unspoken agreement we all seemed to think our "time was up, the slight tension in the air spiked to an almost palpable level.

"Come with me," I offered, unable to leave them behind. This could be the only chance I ever had to free them, and after already butchering one attempt today... "What's keeping you from flying away right now? I can protect you if Morrible:" A clamor of nose met my words, heads shaking vigorously, wings rustling in agitation. "I'm sorry," I murmured, one of the many phrases that seemed to encompass my life. "What can I do? There has to be a way for me to repay your generosity." Chistery's mouth worked futilely, then he pointed to the sky. He couldn't have been clearer. Go find others who needed my help, but the fear in their eyes at the thought of rebelling would haunt my nightmares till an opportune moment presented itself once more. I tried to refuse the pile of fruit, apparently meant for me to take on my journey, but the sight of several primates spreading their wings to "there full span is an intimating one. I rose into the air with an eye on the horizon. It was high time for me to do what I had sworn to that gawking crowd those many days ago.

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Madame Morrible glared at the green envelope as though it were the source of her problems. His Ozness would not be pleased with this turn of events, particularly with the Gale Force following the directions she had given them already. Originally there hadn't been one single flaw in sight: the anti-animal slogans were circulating quite nicely until the creatures were either disposed or merely disliked, the last and most obstinate animal of Shiz's faculty had been removed, students were learning an approved history course. The crowning glory of her efforts was supposed to be the largest imprisonment of those vile beasts, the most blatant display of rebellion yet. Then Chistery had flown into her office (thank Oz the animal was smart enough to find some way of concealing himself) and informed her there was no sign of animal activity. He hovered over the carpet now with a look as his face as if to say, "no one's there what can we do?".

"Have I misplaced my trust in you, Chistery?" Morrible asked, voice as smooth as water flowing over rock. "Did you help these animals whose present you were so utterly convinced of not even a week ago escape?!" The monkey shook his head, snatching up a pen from her desk to scribble hurriedly on a sheet of paper: The Gale Force may still catch them Madame.

"Yes, but that still doesn't explain how they knew you were coming. This was your first assignment, and the public could never come up with such a story with all this talk of Elphaba"-a feral gleam came into the old woman's eyes-"ELPHABA." The green girl had an unnatural fondness for animals; her feelings towards the goat had proven that. If she simply went around warning those that still had the ability to speak to keep an eye out for flying monkeys, if she even helped them find shelter once reports were sent out to the Emerald City, it could undermine everything she and the Wizard were trying to achieve. However now that Oz had a real enemy, where did their priorities lie. Pitting humans against animals made the Ozians happy, unified them under a common front. Elphaba unbalanced that tenuous peace. "You may go," said Madame Morrible brusquely to the monkey, tearing open the envelope to add a postscript to her letter. The gust of air from the Wizard's servant's wings sent Glinda Upland's latest essay "Crystal Balls, Need They Be White" to the floor, but no reprimand followed. The pen scratched furiously across the page. Elphaba would not run rampant for to long, and the Animal Suppression would continue. In any case, Glinda's studies were progressing quite nicely, though Morrible mourned the girl's lack of talent with obvious disdain. Still, she would be exactly what they needed when the time was right.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Wicked the musical is not the property of A Evans.

A/n: I'm incredibly sorry this update is soooo late, but to be fair its partly do to a large chunk of the chapter being deleted--partly do to me This is the point where all the stories, whether taking the same plotline or snatches, differ as to what happened after graduation. How did Fiyero become Captain of the guards, how obvious strains were there on his and Glinda's relationship, how did Boq go from boyfriend to servant, etc? I also realized we hadn't heard from Glinda in a while, and outlined this story under the foolish impression that she would be easier to write after her introduction. On account of this, Glinda's doings will now be shown through others, not because I don't like the girl, but her mind is a very strange/scary place for me! Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

Settling herself on top of the cart with all the dignity befitting an Upland--an Upland who was to become the magic grand vizier to the Wizard--Glinda nodded primly to the servants, who set their shoulders to the luggage--one scurried to open the door before resuming his place. The hardly private, hurriedly converted suite was bare of everything that belonged to either occupant, with the one remaining recently packed, and her roommate's battered suitcase taken away some days before. In the proceeding months since That Day, as she secretly called it, certain changes had come over those within the secure walls of the university. Remaining years had flown by, almost without recognition, and Glinda's studies had progressed (though her grades never really improved drastically, her sorcery abilities had broadened), Shen Shen and Pfanee remained her closest (if not her best) friends, and few disturburances penetrated the bubble of celebration and festivating that made up Shiz life. However those that did, were memorable. Such as her letter from the Wizard requesting an audience to discuss a "possible" career opportunity over the summer (the audience, not the career), sent to Glinda by her parents with an equally formal request to come to the Emerald City should their daughter except.

"Goodbye Miss Glinda!"

"Oh how lucky you are!"

"I heard... The Wizard-"

"We'll miss you so terribly!"

"Our lives are going to be positively incomparable compared to yours!" On and on the partings went, and Glinda had a smile or kind word for all. Discounting the idea of shifting from her upright posture to try and alleviate the heat of the summer sun, she admired the rest of the hustle and bustle of graduated students on their way to non-school lives. Fiyero stood by his cart, shaking hands with the family servant--Avaric she remembered him telling her--and as if feeling her eyes upon him, turned and smiled as she was wheeled past. Glinda swished her hair, smiling softly at the memory of their less public, informal goodbye at last night's party. It was saddening to think Fiyero would be spending so much time in the Vinkus, but in the face of a long distance relationship things couldn't be better between them.

Though she was shocked to learn her dearest was leaving "with honors" he had assured Glinda that, if he was to join her in the Emerald City, he needed more then a reputation as a prince (especially with his reputation) to earn a place with the Wizard. Two months seemed a horrendibly long time for them to be apart, but Glinda hoped she would be to busy to dwell on it for long. She had already told Shen Shen and Pfanee she might be to busy to write. Look at how long it took his Ozness to respond to... No, no, she wouldn't think about that. The luggage cart jolted her slightly as the Upland servants made their way around a group of Munchkins, who promptly scattered. She felt a slight relief, mixed with something else, that Biq wasn't among them. In spite of his loyalty to Nessa, she had caught him staring at her, or trying to get her attention, more than once when the younger girl was absent. Now he was acting as caretaker to Nessa on her way back to Munchkinland.

"Are you well Miss... Glinda?" one of the bearers asked worriedly, catching sight of her face.

"Oh, thank you Allic, I'm fine," said Glinda, fixing a smile over her previously melancholy expression in a tick tock. "This heat can make anyone a bit irritable!"

Nessa had received a letter from her father some time ago, explaining that he was very ill and wished for his daughter to come home. Glinda had comforted her when she had come to her suite, ghastly pale and hollow-eyed from not crying, to fetch her sister's belongings. None of the servants could be prevailed upon to leave the governor's mansion, so there was nothing for it but to have Nessa transport them. Glinda had wondered why the governor hadn't asked for both his daughters, but when she voiced the query Nessa had breezily replied,

"He never mentioned her."

"What?" she'd gasped. "He must be worried about her. What father wouldn't be!" The night she and Elphie had become friends flitted through her mind. A father who hated his daughter, was the answer.

"Madame Morrible wrote to Father at some point," said Nessa casually as she trundled over to her sister's side of the room, plain and orderly compared with Glinda's helter-skelter. "Boq's through with his exams, so it's no trouble for him to come with me," she smiled, "but I thought I'd better handle"-the smile vanished-"this on my own." She glanced at the lone suitcase, emblazoned with the initials E T with an unreadable expression, before sweeping it onto her lap. Her voice, Glinda reflected, had not been that of a grieving sister. But then maybe Nessa, like herself, couldn't afford to show her feelings towards- A whistle sounded faintly in the distance.

"All aboard!" called a recent past faded before Glinda's eyes. They had stopped at the train station, a servant's hand was extended to help her off her perch, and the conductor was awaiting his passengers just as he had on another sunny morning. Glinda allowed herself to be helped down. There were still some last minute admirers who were either lingering or had followed her as far as here. They waved and applauded their beloved Glinda's farewell, as her luggage, seemingly with the same amount of effort as it had previously taken, was wheeled ahead of them and stowed in a compartment. Glinda dispelled the last of her concerns with a wave. What did a family squabble matter to her? She had the love of the masses, a wonderful boyfriend, and soon, she thought, the Wizard's acclaim.

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Avaric drove the laden cart in one of the most awkward silences he had ever had to endure while working for the Tiggulars. Unlike a vast number of the staff, he enjoyed spending time with Master Fiyero, though it was usually spent ushering him away from his latest bout of trouble. It had certainly come as a shock--for every occupant in the first castle--to hear that the young prince had finished an entire semester. When Avaric hadn't been sent to retrieve him from Shiz and take him to another school (assuming there was another school), the remarkable truth dawned on them all. Prince Fiyero Tiggular had accepted a university. What Avaric couldn't quite wrap his mind around was the change in his employer and friend. When they had been traveling for some minutes, and his highness was still watching the scenery with keen eyes, he ventured, "Aren't you going to sleep sir?"

"Of course not. It's daytime," Fiyero replied, as if the very idea were incomprehensible. Grueling training kept him from rolling his eyes in bemusement or gawping outright. "You've given my instructions to the family sentries I trust." It wasn't a question, more a conversation opener.

"Yes sir."

"Any sign of her?"

"No sir." From the corner of his eye Avaric saw him shift restlessly, the old impatience redirected. There was a weighty sigh from the back; a foreign sound.

"Something wrong Avaric?" Fiyero asked after continued silence.

"No sir, not really sir. You've just... well" he chuckled, "Shiz University seems to have given you a different perspective on life is all."

"I wouldn't say Shiz had so much to do with it," he replied, matching the humor, though a thread of uncertainty colored the words. No, it certainly hadn't, the manservant thought with a smile as the tension eased into camaraderie. He'd left a pampered prince who'd thought only of his title when thinking caused little pain, and was bringing home one who's views had altered ever so slightly. Whoever this Miss Elphaba was that Fiyero had written of and ordered (actually ordered!) the family sentries to intercept without harm, she was not like other girls.

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The sunlight cast wavering shadows distorted with emerald hues, disconcerting newcomers, but Morrible had grown used to the effect. Likewise, the Wizard's audience chamber no longer felt foreboding, but familiar. Though she doubted the grandeur of the room would ever fail to make an impression on her, it just would not be the one those citizens of Oz lucky enough to enter would experience.

"She'll be here any moment now," said the Wizard in his normal voice, more to convince himself then confirm the information with her. He looked careworn, like a man burdened with the weight of the world. She remembered the same expression from Elphaba's visit, but could muster no sympathy for past or present. She was free. Free of college students and their petty qualms; free from the claustrophobia of limited power! "We're sure there's no reason to send the Gale Force to Munchkinland?" the Wizard asked, returning to the solitary blight on her happiness. "Her loyalty toward her sister was cause for concern before."

"From my own research and what I overheard from Elphaba and Nessarose, the governor's extremely proud. He won't harbor a fugitive if it means damaging his reputation, and Elphaba's astute enough to know what she's done falls under that category." His Ozness frowned slightly, and she recalled what he'd told the green girl about making people happy. It was the only thing that hadn't been planned or fabricated that day.

The door opened and the Wizard climbed in to the Oz head as the official who served as announcer and a maid skidded to a halt before them. Both bowed and curtsied respectively.

"Yes!" the Wizard boomed.

"Miss Glinda's suite has been furnished per your new instructions Madame secretary," gabbled the maid to Morrible.

"Miss Glinda's train has arrived." said the official to the room at large. "Would your Ozness like me to make a pronouncement?" The maid shot him a look beneath her lashes, clearly shocked that anyone would have the gall to address his Ozness in such a way.

"That will not be necessary." the Wizard rumbled. The maid gave the tiniest of nods to the floor in response to the man's shame faced retreat, than quailed at being the only underling in the room. How was it possible that the servants knew so much, even this meek little snip of a mouse? Perhaps the girl would enjoy a place with Glinda; it wouldn't do to have too many shrewd eyes peering about, even if they would never speak of what they saw.

"I will see to our guest," she said firmly in to the silence, exiting the room slowly enough to hear the maid's clipped dismissal. Things couldn't be going anymore smoothly; slight gulches would no longer be her concern, or at least not to the extent they had been. Oz would have exactly what it needed, a Good Witch. And she and the Wizard would have just what they wanted, a figurehead. Even better, one who was willing, in spite of any future manipulation.


End file.
